Sunday, July 12, 2009
Feeling the Heat
It's hot in Texas. That's not news. We tolerate the heat in July and August, it's expected. That water-logged, so heavy you can't breathe heat is the price we pay for the beautiful 70's we have in December. But this is June and already I see the blue burn of heat rising from the road before me when I drive to work. The sun's rays are so bright they hurt my eyes when I'm out after ten a.m., even through the tinted windshield of my air conditioned car which moves me from one artificially cooled building to another. This weather is unexpected, atypical. So I give myself permission to complain. It's times like this I wonder why I live here. I love mountains, they're bred into me. I love jagged, rock encrusted cliffs and tall, billowing trees. I seek out secluded nooks in forests and meadows filled with flowers. I crave the feel of soft grass under my bare feet, or warm sand with ocean waves washing over. I need stars in the sky to wish on. I delight in chasing lightening bugs and letting them go. I adore open windows with the breeze flowing through the house and the chatter of birds catching my ear. Looking for miles without seeing another building is freeing. My environment can define my mood, and cacti do not warm my heart. Someone said you grow where you're planted. Transplanting a root bound life is not easy. Colleges should offer courses on the importance of deciding where to plant yourself. I'm going to a naturopath on Friday. Maybe she has an answer. All this because it's too hot outside.